Thranduil's Desire - Lord of the Rings Fanfic
by angellybelly27
Summary: An elf maiden, discovered on an archaic battle field by Gandalf the White has been brought to the kingdom of Mirkwood. At first sight of the maiden, Thranduil could not bear in his heart to look upon her. Perhaps this was the reason Gandalf had brought her there, but the maiden knew above all else that her being there should never result to her loving a king or perhaps, he love her
1. Prologue

One day in the wood land forest there lived an entire company of Woodland elves. The elves were fierce, yet serene. Serene in a way that they were like stars lights. And to them all light is sacred, but Woodland elves love best the light of the stars.

Staring upon the Woodland elves carry out their work and responsibilities there stood their king, Thranduil. He was the greatest king the Woodland elves had ever lived by. He was scary, yet kind hearted and above all else, a true king to the elves. But there was one thing the king desired.

"Father," Legolas, Thranduil's son walked in the room pressing both the gigantic doors open by force. "Gandalf the White has ventured here to see you," Legolas informed looking at nothing more than his father's back draped in robes of pure white cotton and fabric like silver. Thranduil turned his head slightly, allowing his son to know he was ready.

He glanced once more across the balcony where he could see his entire kingdom prosper in peace. He lifted his right hand and waved it gracefully motioning for Legolas to leave him. His son witnessing his father's wishes bowed carefully and left closing the hard wooden doors.

Thranduil now left alone in his room was captured by a flower growing by the side of the balcony walls. He caressed it ever so slightly, yet the petals disassembled and took off with the wind. "Ohh," the king sighed grasping one of the petals. "What am I to do without you, my queen," he said finally watching the petals soar higher into the sun-setting sky as his hands held onto the balcony's edges in grief.


	2. Chapter 1: Buried Ties

"Ada."

"Ada." Thranduil's mind grew weary as he shifted in his chair. His only son Legolas went on calling for him. "Ada."

"Yes, Legolas. What is it?" his father slowly brought his hand away from his forehead feeling a mild migraine hit him in his constant state of dreariness. He looked up to peer at his son who was now matured and brought up in every way Thranduil had planned. He was proud of his son and felt every bit of love within him only for Legolas, but once his eyes met his son he drew back.

"Ada," his son echoed once more. Looking at his son made him gulp in confusion, yet he was not startled. His eyes grew wider in what seemed like bewilderment as both his hands shift to the railings held up on each side of his throne.

His son looked different and acted different since the last time he saw him. His son now seemed younger as if he were just a mere child. Thranduil's eyes focused, not leaving the child as his son suddenly cupped a hand that appeared out of nowhere.

Thranduil's vision deepened and found the person holding onto his sons hand astonishing.

He shot up, out of his chair finding the person deliberately smile at him after how many hundreds of thousands of years. His soul leaped and was taken back to a time he thought... No, where he knew he had forgotten.

His eyes became intense as a myriad of thoughts bombarded his mind unable to focus on the breath taking creature in front of him.

Thranduil keeping his cool, stood up straight in stiffness as his eyes wondered back to his son. "Ada, Nana's back," Legolas smiled. "Nana's back," he continued to repeat as his voice starts to disappear quietly.

The figure of the two of them stand before Thranduil soon expunged, leaving him stunned in place, wishing he could just see her smile once more, but then it was gone.

"Ada. Ada"

Thranduil's head tilted down, his hand clenched to his chin as his head fidgeted to the side finally waking up to his son emerging through the enormous doors leading to his chambers once more.

Thranduil was seated upon one of his cherished chairs he kept for over a millennium.

His mind still warped from the dream paused as his son moved in closer, now looking like the son he raised and cared for. "Huh," Thranduil sighed. "It was only a dream," he continued, swinging his right foot over his left.

"What?" Legolas questioned, finding his father now gazing at the wall in front of him, simply contemplating as if something took hold of his subconscious. "Uhh, never mind," Legolas shrugged stiffly.

"Father, the meeting? Gandalf is waiting for you," Legolas informed.

"Ahh yes. The meeting," Thranduil sat up off of his chair now seeming normal. His mind now reverting back to the king he always was and the king he always portrayed. Thranduil moved across his chambers to a drawer located beside the wall of his gigantic doors.

He opened it and quickly placed a single pink plush flower petal into a serenading box designed with colorful gems etching out the ends of it. He quickly closed it and exited his chambers accompanied by his son at his side.

They swiftly made their way to the room where Gandalf the White had been waiting.

The doors to the chambers opened abruptly as Thranduil entered. At the sight of Thranduil, Gandalf bowed deferentially in respect and stood up straight once Thranduil rested upon his throne.

His crown etched to perfection glistened radiantly as he finally spoke. "Ahh Gandalf the White. What brings you to my kingdom without warning?" Thranduil said casually, but to any normal creature his casual tone struck fear and pressure into ones calmed state.

"You know I am not very fond of wizards visiting me unannounced," Thranduil's voice deepened, but did not strike fear into Gandalf's heart.

Legolas situated by the side of Gandalf called out, "Father."

Thranduil faced him and gleamed into his sons eyes, sharing this bond no father and son elf had ever had.

"Very well Gandalf. Seeing as my son trusts you with his very life, state what you have come here for." Thranduil's gaze averted back to Gandalf the White who took a moments pause in wait finally tapping his staff onto the hard paved floor.

"Bring her in," Gandalf ordered huffing out a sigh as his eyes narrowed.

"On my way to Rohan," Gandalf started clearing his throat. "I came across a battle field. A battle field like no other."

"What do you mean?" Legolas intervened staring at Gandlaf the White while Thranduil seated upon his throne comfortably listened.

"It was a battle field where humans and orcs had been slain."

"That is impossible," Legolas argued.

"Yes, it is." Thranduil stood up and ushered himself down the stairs heading towards Gandalf the White, his mind simply vexed by what he had been told. "No orcs have been seen roaming our lands for years. They have fled after Sauron had been destroyed," Thranduil paused.

"Now tell me Gandalf. How is that possible?" Thranduil's face loomed around Gandalf's as his body stiff and proud as always turned to him, anger and calmness both expressed on his face.

"Yes... Well. We do not know what the cause may be nor the outcome, but I would care to think she may know otherwise," Gandalf murmured as the doors leading to the chambers struck open.

Tauriel entered, bowing her head slightly to Thranduil as a numerous amount of guards followed behind her.

"Bring her here, so she could grace the woodland king," Gandalf instructed, tilting his staff forward.

"No!," Tauriel said waving her hand, ordering the guards to bring the prominent visitor forward. (No! here means yes or may it be so.)

Once a few of the guards dispersed, a young elf woman, her eyes peering to the ground as her chains bind her wrists together, walked forward as two elven guards stood by her, making sure she would not escape or have the slightest intentions to harm the king.

Thranduil's eyes widened as he took a step backwards.

"What's wrong?" Legolas questioned, taking a step forward to the prisoner.

"Aurellia?" Thranduil questioned making Legolas turn to him as astonishment bewildered his face.

Legolas slowly returned his gaze to the elfish maiden standing before him as his eyes widen in disbelief. "I know that name," Legolas fidgeted. "How do I know that name?" he gazed back to his father with concern as the rest of the company within the room did so as well, yet Thranduil did not show any emotions.

With his hand fastened behind his back he took a step forward towards the captive. Three more steps forward closing in as Gandalf slowly moved to the side. Another step closer to her when suddenly Thranduil swiftly and briskly took hold of Legolas' blade, perched behind his back as he quickly points the sharpened edge of it directly at the maidens neck.

In under a second blood trickled down her skin and onto the blade.

Everyone in the chambers did not speak. They did not move. Only their expressions darkened at the sight of their king holding a blade to the neck of their own kin.

"I am not Aurellia," the elf maiden retorted looking to her elven king calmly, even though her chest quivered restlessly. "I am not her."


	3. Chapter 2: A Son's Love

"Who are you?" Thranduil spoke so darkly as if he was replying with a threat. The maiden paused and swallowed deeply, the blade still locked directly above her throat. She looked to him, her eyes wisping with vulnerability as her breath drew deeper into obscurity.

King Thranduil did not know this woman and where she had come from, but the softness in her eyes made him push the blade tighter against her throat. "I asked you a question," Thranduil said bitterly, nudging his head higher.

Legolas stepped forward drawing in his father's attention. "Father, is she-"

"No, she is not," Thranduil cut his son short of words knowing what he was about to ask. "Your mother is gone." Thranduil averted his vision back to the maiden, briskly swinging the blade to her left cheek where strands of silk like hair fell.

He traced the stands of hair corroding her skin with the blade all the way down to the middle of her neck. He placed the blade beside her throat and pushed her hair away wanting to view her face clearly.

Thranduil's eyes did not escape the elf's beauty as everyone in the room remained silent. The maiden turned her head to the side ever so slightly trying to avoid the blade her king held within his palm.

"That is impossible. You cannot be her," Thranduil now withdrew the blade and stepped back.

"Yes, she does look like her, doesn't she?" Gandalf spoke walking to Thranduil. "She possess her beauty and perhaps her spirit, but you can tell she is not her."

"What is the meaning of this?" Legolas questioned, reclaiming his blade from his father who had handed it to him.

"I do not know," Gandalf hissed, now making his way to the elf maiden. "She refuses to speak regarding the battle that took place. She is too scared to tell me who she is or why she happened to be there," Gandalf paused now standing beside the elf.

Thranduil turned his back to them and walked away quietly. "And why have you brought her here?" Thranduil spoke nonchalantly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Gandalf stepped forward nudging his staff to the ground. "I want you to take her in. Make her see and live the life an elf should live. Then maybe she might be willing to inform us about what had happened during the battle and to why she of all elves was their prisoner."

"And why should I do that?" Thranduil's head bounced uncaringly to the incontrovertible fact that he did not care for this elf. So why should he welcome her into his home? His mind pondered over the trivial question.

"Because if the orcs want her, wouldn't you?" Gandalf lifted his free hand into the air.

"Do not be mistaken, Mithrandir. I do not care for this maiden nor will I have my kingdom be in ruin for one elf we clearly know nothing about," Thranduil's voice ran cold as the elf maiden stared to the ground, knowing she could not do anything more than just that.

"Yes. We know nothing about her," Legolas approached Thranduil. "All the more reason why she should stay." Legolas commented, knowing that he had rendered his father silent. He looked into Thranduil's eyes full of drive to keep this maiden here and his father could see it.

"Very well," Thranduil exhaled after a brief moment of silence, extending his fingers to his thigh silently. Everyone's expressions lightened softly until Thranduil's pace towards the door slugged into a slow brisk. He tilted his head to the side so Legolas could see his face, but Thranduil himself could not see his sons. "But you my son will carry out this decision you made. You will care for her for she is now under you," Thranduil murmured, finally leaving the room.

Everyone lowered their heads witnessing Thranduil exit, but silence still echoed throughout the halls.

Gandalf the white cleared his voice unraveling the atmosphere. "Now that things are settled I shall be on my way, but I will visit again soon," Gandalf said tugging his hat as he started to exit the room.

"Gandalf," Legolas called out before he could have vanished from the prince's eyesight's.

"Yes, my boy?" Gandalf turned around finding Legolas in a state so curious and so simple minded his thoughts could not even come to pass. Gandalf saw a shard of worry amongst his eyes and huffed out a sigh so effortless no one noticed.

"Nothing reveals itself, but in all due time you will find what was in need of searching for," Gandalf forced a smile and ushered himself out knowing that Legolas was capable of getting through this.

Legolas quickly lifted his head and rushed in the same direction his father went.

"Umm.." the elf maiden stepped forward. "Thank you," she said bowing her head slightly making Legolas pause before he could leave.

"Do not be mistaken. I did not do it for you...," he stood silently long enough for the maiden to look up to him making the prince rush his tone. "I did it for my father," Legolas muttered escaping the maidens view and briskly walked to his father.

In a few seconds he caught up to him. Thranduil paused as soon as he sensed his son halt behind him.

"Don't you have other matters to attend to? For example, making your guest feel welcomed," Thranduil's voice seemed as cold as ever, but something laid hidden beneath his lips.

"Why did you do that?" Legolas questioned with bitterness as if it were corroding his tender voice.

"Do what?" Thranduil didn't move, but looked to the side with every fiber in his body, knowing what his son had meant. His son's words pierced his inner facade and he couldn't hide what his son and only son could see among everyone. Bitter sorrow.

"I've known you for thousands of years, father. When have I ever seen you make that face," Legolas stood still looking at nothing more than his father's back, glistening in utter starlight. He waited for his father's response, but got nothing but Thranduil glimpsing once more to him, twisting his head slightly and left down the halls saying nothing more.

Legolas tormented by what he said sighed in grief, feeling guilt warp his mind. He turned sideways to the hard paved wooden walls where lanterns crept and perched itself up while lights of glittering suns lit both pathways.

He staggered back knowing he was in no position to say that to his father and it sank in, fading every bit of resistance he had making him peer up to the hard soiled ceiling and in a few moments he scrunched his fists tight and headed back for the maiden, acting unaffected by what had just occurred.

"Legolas," Tauriel exhaled, bowing once more to the prince who entered the room. He walked regal as he should, but stopped before the elfish maiden who had turned to meet his gaze.

"Come I will show you to your room," Legolas uttered moving about.

"Ummm..." she paused awkward in her stance as chivalry took hold of her eyes making them glisten. Legolas halted and turned back to her finding her all flustered up and innocent.

"What's wrong?" he called seeing the maiden wisp her chin lower into the darkness. "Would you prefer the dungeons?" Legolas echoed brimming his eyebrows further to his eyes. His voice still gentle, yet it whistled blows of irritation and everyone in the chamber could tell Legolas and Thranduil's conversation did not go so well.

"No. It's just," she said all flustered. She took a deep breath and continued, not allowing her nerved to take hold of her actions. "If it would not be a bother," she said trying to stay calm. "My lord," her voice started to quiver as her lips trembled bowing slightly in front of Legolas, who seemed to have no interest whatsoever at her display of respect.

"Tauriel," Legolas called out. "Take her to her room. She will not leave it until I or my father says so."

"Yes."

"Both of you," Legolas called out to the two guards situated on both sides opposite to the maiden. "You will stay in front of her room at all times. No one goes in and no one comes out," Legolas ordered and in a few moments he was gone.

Tauriel traipsed her eyesight to the ground and sighed uncontrollably as her shoulders move restlessly. The guards turned to her in a questionable manner, but she dismissed them. "Go now," he voice loudened at the thought of her king and prince act differently.

Who is this maiden who stirred every bit of confusion to our king and prince's heart? Who is this lady who our king called his wife?


	4. Chapter 3: False Wounds

"Ego!" Tauriel demanded, issuing the guards to leave the room the young elf maiden was now free to call her own, but to her it seemed more like a prison. No sunlight or outdoor light could penetrate the hard cut windows.

The guards soon marched out the doors and shut it close within a seconds glimpse. Tauriel stood at the corner of the closed doors admiring the beauty the elf held both inward and outward. Tauriel's hands soon began to sweat watching the maiden take one step at a time towards the bed itching to be dusted and fixed to perfection.

The maiden traced the bed linens with her index finger feeling her warmth absorb the dust onto her skin. "If you need anything just alert the guards by the door. I will take my leave," Tauriel informed lightly and before she could turn to leave the maiden stood up straight.

"Thank you," she said assuringly as if her room was of the best commodity. Tauriel reaching for the handle crumpled her fingers into a fist and sighed unexpectedly. Tauriel couldn't have been more curious about a creature for over a century, but this maiden was different and any elf could tell.

Tauriel's head sprang with questions that she knew she could not ask, but instead she faced the maiden, bowed politely and left the room, abandoning every inch of curiosity that bewildered her silent.

The maiden, left to think for herself slowly crouched by the side of the bed grabbing the faulty wooden stand which held the bed upright. Her nails corroded the wood feeling it ripple within her grasps as she finally hits he floor. Her slim legs trembled endlessly as her hands soon followed after. The maiden's face covered by the shadows of darkness had drew her into a feeling more sorrow seep through her soul until glamorous droplets of light had flickered down her eyes, onto her pale cheek, and to her trembling hand.

She had always felt alone throughout her entire life, but why now of all times does she seem to be lonelier than ever. She continued to weep until dusk broke loose and the moon glistened brightly.

There was only one source of light from the room and that was the moon, peering above a window that had been the ceilings center. Slowly more light had dispersed throughout the room giving such a radiant powder blue light that felt so cool, yet so warm.

The maiden admiring the moons beauty couldn't help but follow its light to the center of the room where the moon itself stood on top. She glanced at it and saw such beauty.

"What are you doing here?" a voice called from the shadows. It was a cold and piercing tone that struck the elf maiden to a standstill. She turned forcefully to the voice and swallowed intensely. She herself recognized the man which turned out to be the cause of her distress.

"My king," she bowed hurriedly as her voice shook. "I'm sorry. I did not know..." she paused feeling the heat of the moment. "I was sent here by the guards."

"I see," Thranduil said bitterly. "What's troubling you? Are you perhaps afraid of me?" Thranduil continued, looming around the room slowly as the maiden watched Thranduil emerge out of the shadows. "Good, if you are."

"I know very well why my son chose to keep you here, but I regret he shouldn't have. He thinks you being here could possibly change me into something I am not. I am not one to be changed nor do I want to be. And I can assure you that will not happen seeing as you do not come from a civilized background," Thranduil spoke confidently as if her knew where she had originated.

This struck the maiden as her hands slowly coil into fists.

"Even the very sight of you is uncongenial. Perhaps it's best that you leave. There is nothing for you here nor is there anywhere else."

"There was once," the maiden uttered.

"What did you say?" Thranduil asked but the maiden didn't bother to reply or to even look his way. She stood there, her hands continuing to tremble, her head fixated to the floor, and her eyes closed shut feeling water pour out the ends.

"Answer me!" Thranduil demanded, now rushing towards the elf. His eyes bursting with fire and determination did not move off the maiden as his hand grabbed hers and pushed it away from her face. The maiden gasped softly as Thranduil watched a passionate tear rundown her cheek.

His hand clasped to her wrist was outwardly stretched away from her body as her hair swiftly swayed from the side. Thranduil's face softened at the sight of the maiden's teary eyed face and he was taken back to a memory of his precious wife.

Thranduil's face leaned backwards as his fingers softly caressed a tear away from the maiden's cheek making her flinch to the side and in a mere second Thranduil returns to his senses.

The elf girl flung her hand away from his and hurried to the doors that she forced open strongly. She huffed a sigh of fear and sadness as tears fell from her eyes. She continued to run, but an elf guard caught hold of her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.

The maiden looked to the guard, both her hands trying to cover her red eyed and soggy face, but in a few seconds Thranduil reappeared.

"Noro!" he commanded. "In leithio."

"No!, Hir vuin," the guard replied releasing his hold on the maiden's wrist.

The girl soon retracted her hand and gave it a good rubbing. Her eyes would pass from the two guards to Thranduil until they fell to the ground unable to peer at her king any longer.

"Bring her to a different room. Didn't I say no one is to enter this one?" the king eyed the guards posted on both sides of the maiden.

"Legolas ordered it, my Lord," the guards spoke in unison as Tauriel entered the hallway.

"And what brings you here Tauriel?" Thranduil questioned. "Speak," he demanded, giving Tauriel the impression that something terrible had occurred.

"I was simply going to check on her, my Lord," Tauriel tilted her head slightly making Thranduil avert his vision back to the maiden who was now staring at him.

"Escort her now," he said casually to the guards as his vision slowly slips from the maiden to the floor. He did not watch the guards seize her and force her forward, but rather steady his gaze to the ground waiting for the right moment.

"Not you Tauriel," Thranduil turned to her. Tauriel halted calmly behind the guards and faced Thranduil slowly, unaware of what is to come.

"Did Legolas tell you to bring her to this room?"

"Yes."

"I see," Thranduil said pacing a few steps away from Tauriel. "Did he ask you to visit her often?"

"No," Tauriel paused. "My Lord."

"From now on I forbid anyone from entering her room unless commanded by me. Am I understood?" Thranduil maintained a straight face as he looked upon Tauriel.

"But you cannot do this to her. Can't you see she is suffering? We must welcome her as a part of our kin for she is and yet you treat her as if she is not such," Tauriel explained holding her chin high.

Thranduil's presence suddenly strengthened as if he grew massive in size and Tauriel minified. He faced her holding his expression and spoke, "I am your king and hers as well am I not? Do as I say."

"Might I remind you the last time you opened you heart to a stranger?" he paused to stare at Tauriel who was taken back. "Hmmm? It all ended in ruin and you nearly crumbled in grief," Thranduil continued to air out his mind feeling his chest grow heavy.

Tauriel looked to the side as sadness filled her eyes with water. Her hands shook and her heart sank feeling the pain she tried to lock away centuries ago.

Thranduil noticed Tauriel's breath grow deeper and heavier as she swallowed intensely.

"Maybe the one wounded with suffering is not her, but you," Tauriel said.

She looked to her king as her chest pulsed recklessly trying to control the emotions she held deep within her until Legolas appeared.

Tauriel turned to the side quickly expunging a faint tear that slipped from her eye and soon faced Legolas who paused before his father.

"Boe i'waen," Tauriel's voice cracked as she soon quivered down the halls. Legolas turned to his father for a brief moment and rushed towards Tauriel. Thranduil, left behind began to shut his eyes close and sighed a cold bewildered one and turned back to the room to watch the moon allure him once more.


	5. Chapter 4: Bitter Kindness

"Tauriel! Tauriel!" Legolas continued to call out as he followed her aimlessly. She glided down the halls until he called out to her once more. "Tauriel, Daro!"

"Man raice, hir vuin, Legolas?" Tauriel asked after she had halted in the middle of the path. Legolas could tell Tauriel's eyes watered from the way she breathed in deeply and the way her voice cracked on pressure. Her hands, curled into fists shook as she slowly turns around.

"Tauriel, Man so pent?" Legolas implored as he moved in closer towards her. Tauriel, looking dismayed gasped softly and took out a black glimorous stone etched with dwarfen language. It gleamed in the dead of night as Tauriel cupped it within her palm and brought it closer to her chest.

Tauriel's eyes watered once more as she suddenly breaths through her mouth trying to find comfort. Legolas, recognizing the rune stepped back, his face now driven with seriousness as he began to back away and head back to his father.

"U!, Dartho!," Tauriel said grabbing his bicep in order for her to force herself in front of him. "What's done is done. I do not want you to do so. Let your father be."

"But Tauriel-"

"What he said was true," she intervened. "I cannot seem to let go of the past. Of him. And it hurts so much after how many years and yet I cannot look passed it. Am I to blame?" Tauriel's chin lowered in grief as Legolas looked at Tauriel wondering a myriad of things.

Legolas didn't understand the aspect of love for he had not experienced it. How he longed for the heart of Tauriel, but it had belonged to another many years ago. Some parts of him loathed the idea of it, yet he respected it and most of all he respected Tauriel's love for a dwarf.

"U!, Tauriel," Legolas placed his hand on her shoulder and gave a slight squeeze in comfort.

Tauriel looked up, her hands still placed upon the stone did not lose its strength. She held it tight and did not let go and Legolas turned his face upward in thought.

"Ego! Posto vae," Legolas ordered softly releasing his hand off her shoulder.

Tauriel did not speak, but she backed away willingly and left down the halls as Legolas watched from behind.

As soon as she was clearly out of sight, Legolas sighed and quickly headed to his father who was still in the room where the moon stood upon its hilt.

Legolas walked down the hall towards the room as he started to try and think of any way to speak to his father, but he couldn't think of anything until the very moment he opened the doors quietly.

He found his father looming over the moons beauty by the corner of the bed where he had sat upon. Thranduil heard his son enter the chamber, but he did not move. He did not know where to begin it all and instead remained silent. He just looked to the moon in awe and every minute and second that elapsed he dreaded the silence that parted him and his son.

"Man le trasta?" Thranduil said unable to cope with the silence any longer.

"You tell me father. Is there?" Legolas questioned Thranduil in a more low tone than usual.

"And what are you implying? Am i perhaps troubled with something?" Thranduil said nonchalantly, now turning to face Legolas who viewed his father shifting his position as graceful as he possibly could.

"Aren't you?" Legolas' eyebrows furrowed downward in a questionable manner. He took a step forward, closing into his father. "Tell me father, why did you say that to Tauriel? You were the one of all people who pitied her at that time. You were the one who welcomed her back after banishing her. So why?"

"It was a simple act of weakness. Nothing more," Thranduil explained now looking at his son.

Legolas knew it was more than that. He could see it in his father. What was troubling him now seeped into Legolas' mind and he couldn't do anything more than to look down to the ground in grief.

He knew it was hard for his father, but pushing his problems, his anger, and his wounds on someone else wouldn't help, but there is nothing he could have done to a peace this feeling.

"Father I may not know why you did it, but I may know that you might have the decency to correct your faults. And so will I," Legolas said gently as he turns and walks out of the room.

Thranduil in his heart knew his son was right, but his mind told him otherwise.

He closed his eyes feeling anger surge within him as he grabs the small dusted cabinet and flings it to the wall closest to him causing it to dismantle into pieces.

Immediately dust had withered from the ends of the wall as fragments of wood stumbled, rolling all over the concrete floor together with specks of dust reaching the sole ends of Thranduil's foot.

His breath drew in deeper as he slowly heads to the door when suddenly the moon's light glimmered a shining object hidden beneath the contents of the now destroyed cabinet.

Thranduil peered over to the object so curious as to think that something would still be hidden in this room.

He slowly walked over to it and crouched down on one leg gracefully pushing sticks of wood out of his way.

Once the object was fully in view, Thranduil had paused unable to simply reach for it. His face hardened as he continued to stare at it, his eyes drawn to it. His lips trembled as he reaches for the item slowly.

The touch of his fingers slightly grazed its frame as he stands back up to his feet. Thranduil could not remember this painting nor had he forgotten it.

With the painting now within his grasps he traced the elf maiden's face who held a baby boy in her hands. This caused Thranduil to look up and sigh unable to keep his mind steady.

He gripped the frame harder until his strength subsided. "What did I do wrong?" Thranduil asked himself, looking at the painting once more.

The next morning Thranduil did not get much of an inch of sleep, yet it did not affect him. He stayed in his chambers staring over the balcony, watching the moon die down and the sun rise. The coolness of the air that very morning was vibrant, bringing trees to sway and dance, flowers to release their petals as they venture off with the wind, and the entire place to glisten with liveliness, but it all seemed but an illusion to Thranduil.

The painting he soon kept after last night rested on top of his bedside table allowing him to view it from time to time. And each time he'd look at it, his son's words would play back in his mind over and over again.

He knew what he had to do, but he was unwilling to do so.

His mind grew weary until a surprised knock on the door had averted his conscience. Tauriel walked in and stopped before Thranduil, who did not glimpse towards her. His mind was still raw from their conversation that spurred on yesterday and he did not know what Tauriel intends to say to him at this very moment.

"What is it that you want, Tauriel?" Thranduil said.

"If it pleases you I have taken your words into forgetting him," Tauriel lowered her head. "You were right. I could not endure the loss, but because it was real I have to forget," she paused, her words still unable to sink into her head. Her hands now started to tremble as she repeated her words mildly, "I have to forget."

"If that is what you choose," Thranduil said peering at her slightly, but something in him stirred as his chest sank.

Tauriel, hearing his words bowed slightly and took a few steps to the table resting at the side of the room. It was enveloped with golden beads of fabric that brought glamour into one's eyes once glimpsed at.

In her hand, as her fingers corrode was the pale black stone that glimmered in utter star light. She gave it a tight squeeze one last time and laid it down on the wooden material of the table. Her fingers laced the carvings on the rough rocky material for the last time and she soon walked away to the door.

She opened it with her sweaty hands and slipped through the opening and closed it slowly.

"Tauriel, Daro!" Thranduil uttered before Tauriel could leave completely. She slowly reappeared from the doors and looked to her king who was still glimpsing across his balcony window.

"You may visit often as you please," Thranduil said now facing Tauriel.

"My Lord-"

"I'm implying you may visit the maiden as you please," he cut her off taking a few steps towards her.

"Of course. I shall take my leave now," she said, a hint of darkness still escaping her voice.

"Tauriel," the king called out once more as Tauriel took hold of the huge wooden carved doors before she could leave.

She looked to her king twisting her head slightly only to find Thranduil by the table where she had left her stone, but it wasn't there, rather on his palm.

Her king flung the stone gently upwards, aiming for Tauriel. The stone shot up quickly and landed on Tauriel's palm.

Tauriel in question looked to Thranduil who did not show an ounce of emotion, but his actions showed otherwise.

"Something real cannot be forgotten. Remember that," he spoke to Tauriel deeply making her smile undoubtedly. "Now go. I am in need of some rest," Thranduil said bitterly now turning away from Tauriel and to the balcony once more.

"Of course," Tauriel said retiring down the halls.

Thranduil, alone in his room once again could not think of anything else, but the night sky and how every elf adored it, but to him it was a constant reminder of his loss. He could not abide with it, stretching his hands to the wooden railings and clasping them tightly.


	6. Chapter 5: Safe Prison

"Tolo!" The guard pulled the maidens elbow forward as the second followed beside her. She forced each step, one after the other as she looked back glimpsing at Thranduil and Tauriel.

She knew the both of them were conversing about her, yet the fact that an elf she barely knew was speaking on her behalf struck her. "Why would she defend me when I cannot even defend myself," the elf maiden asked herself as her hands pulsed.

Suddenly nearing the corner and vanishing from Tauriel's view the elf maiden paused, bewilderment catching her eyes and ears, "Baw daro!" The guards continued to push the maiden forward as she tried to steady her footing from leaving the sight of Thranduil and Tauriel.

She knew now that both of them moved on to a different topic and she could hear every word. Tauriel's expression changed dramatically and the maiden was startled backwards. She might not have known the story behind Tauriel's grief, but she knew the exact pain she was feeling.

The guards pushed the maiden hard enough for her to once again move forward diminishing her sight from the king and Tauriel.

The maiden could not stop thinking about what Tauriel had said for her and what bitter words the king had said to Tauriel. She knew what Tauriel had felt was grief of love for another and perhaps she knew it was the reason for Tauriel to voice out for her, but she couldn't help but share that sadness with herself.

The maiden dragged her bare feet against the polished wooden floor until they finally reached their destination.

"Minno!" the guard ordered pushing the maiden slightly towards two carved and silver mantled doors. She looked back to the guards for a moment as they kept watch on her and only her.

She breathed in and out deeply extending her hands clasping the cool steel handle and gently opened the doors to her new quarters. She looked around as she observed the room to be somewhat smaller than the last, yet it was neat, lively, and vibrant. It was close to perfection, yet she did not feel at ease for some unknown reason.

The maiden took a few steps into the room, her hands still grazing the sides of the door when suddenly the guards pushed her in and shut the door abruptly locking her inside.

Now she knew this place was a prison as she ran swiftly to the doors before they had locked it. Her hands, now formed into fists slightly banged against the door as her forehead slugged onto it, shaking some strands of hair down to her cheek.

Her breath hardened feeling her eyes shut uncontrollably. Her gasps quivered as she moved her head slightly. Her legs, slim and strong as they were now felt like jelly oozing its way slowly to the paved floor.

The maiden could not do anything nor could she say anything as her entire body slowly slithered down dragging her forehead and hands to slide against the door in pain, in agony, and in wait. In wait that something would happen that could render her free of these feelings, to free her from herself, to free her from her king.

The maiden did not move from that very same spot the entire night. No one came in and obviously she couldn't go out so she sat there, alone, nothing more to live for but to stay by one's side as nothing more than a prisoner, a slave. That's what she had been taught and has lived for all her life.

She couldn't change the fact that she had no life she could call her own. It had always belonged to someone or something.

Her mind grew restless as her body stiffened from the drastic freezing temperature hurdling through every inch of the room. She didn't want to move, yet even if she wanted to she couldn't. Her back felt so sore as pain inflicted her into to do nothing more, but to lean against the door.

Hours passed and she, still laid against the doors did not move. She couldn't even utter a word or a wail feeling her back boil causing her temperature to spike enormously. Her head felt hot as her brain pulsed feeling a derange sort of feeling course through her veins.

The maiden now at the brink of collapsing held her hand to the door. Her sweat, now lingering on the wood shined as she tried, with all of her remaining strength to bang the door loud enough for one of the guards to notice.

Her hand now trembling lifted backwards, but as she forced it back to the door's center her strength diminished completely. Her hand simply touched the doors outer layer as it soon glided back down, trembling in horror and pain.

This was not what the elf maiden had wanted, yet it was something she had waited for many years and perhaps there was nothing stopping her now.

The maiden's eyes started to drift away feeling her eyelids weigh like lead. She gasped slowly, almost time to let go when the doors open abruptly. Tauriel entered searching the room for the elf maiden until her eyesight finally locked on her, laid down on the floor.

"Boe enni dulu!" Tauriel shouted to the guards outside of the chambers who quickly darted to Tauriel's call.

"Man le tresta, Tauriel?" one of the guards questioned, turning to face the two maidens on the floor.

"Boe enni nestron!" Tauriel forcefully lifted the maiden into her arms as the maiden herself felt weary as to what was happening. The maiden could not concentrate, rather her senses of sight and smell were vanishing drastically.

"Nidh!" the maiden said as Tauriel pulled back from giving her the slightest touch on the back.

"Tolo," the guard said reaching over to grab the maiden from Tauriel knowing he could carry her at ease compare to Tauriel.

"Gwaem," Tauriel ordered, zipping from hall to hall until they reached the infirmary.

There, herbs of many species grew for many purposes, especially healing, yet Tauriel did not know what was causing such pain for the maiden to act this way.

"Call for Legolas this instant. We need him here," Tauriel demanded as both the guards leave in search for him.

Tauriel not knowing what to do held her hand onto the maiden's h=forehead feeling it burn like boiling water. She quickly reacted placing both her hands on the maiden's hand viewing her veins clearly when she quickly pressed down.

Her veins turned purple in color making Tauriel rush throughout the room in search for a certain herb.

She knew exactly what happened to the maiden. She was poisoned and the only way to cure it would be to use a herb called Sethiros. It was rare to the point that not much people even knew about it.

Tauriel quickly grabbed it from a shelf. She pulled its roots and quickly pummeled them on the mortar and pestle. The liquid drawn from it was soon collected and Tauriel shoved the substance in her mouth.

She hurriedly pricked the maiden's skin where a vein could be seen visibly.

The maiden now grew tired and her body turned pale as if she was on the brink of death. Tauriel now panicked slightly, but she did not waver. She quickly placed her lips to the vein and forced the substance into her body allowing it to course throughout her veins.

Tauriel, finished with the first procedure quickly backed away and grabbed the leaves of Sethiros and crumpled them in her palms as she deliberately began to chant, pressing the herbs onto the maiden's skin where the vein was.

"Ceven dhaer, ano vellas lin enin 'raw hen," Tauriel repeated this many times over until the paleness in the maiden's face soon lifted and a plush color soon replaced it. The maiden's breath steadied steeply until her face wondered to the side where Tauriel sat beside her.

"Hodo, mellon nin," Tauriel rubbed the top of the maiden's forehead, grazing the strands of hair with it. "Ni ban," Tauriel uttered. "You are safe now," she sighed questioning her own words deep within her conscience.

Is she really safe?


	7. Chapter 6: The Light's End

It was all a blur to the elf maiden. Nothing made sense, yet she felt at ease here.

All she could remember was a frantic memory of her slipping from her world slowly, as she laid down buried in pain on her chamber floor watching Tauriel, an elf guard and maiden she had barely met in a day's time kneel before her, shouting in horror, yet to the maiden she couldn't help but feel happy to see her, but now she wondered where she was.

She could see nothing but glimpses of white flashing lights hovering from place to place like souls of star lights. This certain warmth and comfort it gave hadn't reached nor embraced the maiden for hundreds of years and how she longed for it so.

Suddenly a blinding light dispersed throughout the area covering everything in nothing but rays of light.

The maiden soon glimpsed around finding a path leading to the end, her destination, her fate. She did not know what it was nor what it meant, but her instincts told her otherwise. She knew she had to reach the end, yet something was holding her back and she herself had no clue what it might have been.

She forced foot after foot through the free pathway, now ushered with glistening carvings appearing on the floor in a refined manner. The maiden's surroundings soon flitted back to color as she stops in the middle and turns back.

There she sees her king, Thranduil dressed in utter elegance and it almost took her breath away.

She had to admit he was handsome, intimidating in a way, stunning, and graceful than any other king she has behold, but even the thought of it did not dissuade her from the path she chose. Or rather the path that chose her.

The maiden turned forward leaving her illusion of Thranduil behind as she took one step forward and at that very instant she felt a tingling sensation spread from her hand to her entire body. She looked back to peer at her wrist, finding Thranduil's hand locked tight around it.

From there the maiden knew he wouldn't let her go, making her face him. She looked into his eyes and saw finally what Thranduil kept inside, and it had reflected every inch of herself.

The maiden, struck by what she saw tried to take a step backwards, but Thranduil did not permit her to do so as he leans forward, his face more calm and worry-like than usual uttered a word close to her ears.

"Come back," his tone wavered. "Come back," the maiden heard once more finally waking to a voice more familiar than that of her kings.

Tauriel quickly responded to the maiden waking up in utter dismay. She darted forward grabbing the maiden's shoulders and pushing her down slowly. "Nin maer. Baw trass," Tauriel said gently peering at the maiden who seemed so flustered at a loss for words.

"Where am I?" the maiden asked.

"In your chambers," Legolas called out from the side, walking in view to the maiden.

"We almost lost you," Tauriel explained, now sitting beside the maiden by her bed side. A cloth draped itself on her while she stayed down feeling weakness throughout her body.

"Perhaps you need your rest. We shall both leave," Legolas implored as Tauriel looked down to the bed fabrics slightly. She immediately looked up, smiling lightly and stood up.

The maiden was desperate. She didn't want to be alone, yet she could slowly see Tauriel leave her side. She deliberately grabbed Tauriel's sleeve before she could escape from her grasps, forcing Tauriel to face the maiden who faired weakly in bed.

Legolas paused and turned to Tauriel before he could fully exit the room. Tauriel, her face slightly smiling in ease looked to Legolas and nodded slowly for him to leave ahead. Legolas looked to both Tauriel and the maiden curiously, his eyebrows still furrowing downward until he finally left silently closing the doors behind him.

Tauriel, now free from all obligations turned to the maiden and sat beside her frail body. Her hand grazed the top layer of the bed, crumpling and folding parts of the cloth along with it. "Man le trasta?" Tauriel asked curiously as the maiden lets go of her sleeve.

Tauriel smiled slightly giving the maiden this warm feeling of comfort making her swallow nervously. "I never got to thank you for speaking to the king on my behalf," the maiden said forcing herself to look to the bed sheets rather than Tauriel's face.

Tauriel suddenly recalled what had happened the night before and forced a smile looking away, thinking about how could the maiden have known about what the king and her herself had discussed, yet it did not dismay her deeply.

Tauriel did not mind if the maiden had heard their conversation about Kili, knowing she had a good heart, a pure one at that, but it still pained her to think about it.

"Thank you," the maiden now said looking to Tauriel who smiled calmly feeling comfort form her words voice out softly.

"In return would you kindly grace me with your name?" Tauriel asked after looking down to the ground speechless for words in reply to the maiden's gratitude. She looked to the maiden inspiringly as she stared at her hands fidgeting them nervously. Tauriel knew the maiden was pondering on whether she would tell her, but she did not worry.

Tauriel waited calmly until the maiden bit her lip unable to speak. "It does not bother me if you wish not to tell, but you need your rest. I shall take my leave," Tauriel forced a smile and sat up gracefully as the maiden's eyes followed her. Tauriel took a few steps away from the bed and glanced back wondering what could possibly stop the maiden from doing so when suddenly she heard her call out.

"Please, wait."

Tauriel turned around surprised the maiden had done this, but she was rather smitten in curiosity.

"Please, stay," the maiden's voice quivered silently, unable to get the words out correctly.

Tauriel's smile grew wider as she saw a tingle of brightness glisten from the maiden's eyes as she shyly tried to avoid Tauriel's gaze.

"Of course," Tauriel said, once more gracing her way back to the maiden's bedside. Tauriel looked down to her lap and back to the maiden for some time, unable to come up with anything practical she could possibly say.

"I do not mean to pry, but...," the maiden began, capturing Tauriel's attention, who looked at her, yet she herself could not glimpse at Tauriel.

"What did the king mean when you nearly crumbled?" the maiden, now peering to Tauriel asked feeling nervousness press down heavily towards her chest.

Tauriel did not expect this question, yet she also did not feel bothered nor burdened by it. She sat there for a while, her face calmly contemplating, but she herself felt at ease within the maiden's presence. Tauriel just smiled slightly and sighed uncontrollably and began to speak.

"Uhh.." her voice cracked not knowing what to say or where to begin with her words. "Well umm..," her voice lost itself.

The maiden comfortably laid her hand, so slim, frail, elegant, and hopeful onto Tauriel's, giving warmth as she shined a smile her way.

"I did crumble once. Almost a century ago," Tauriel admitted gathering all her strength together. "Before it had happened," she smiled to the maiden recalling. "I was the captain of the guards. And one day one of our elf spies rushed towards the palace speaking of dwarves crossing our woods. I did not know it then, but we were ordered to bring them back here."

"I ventured out with Legolas in search of them, but by the time we reached them they were attacked by the spiders from the South. We rushed in order to save them and I stopped glimpsing at a young dwarf battling a spider or at least trying to escape it. The next thing I know, I was rushing to save him. He looked stunned when he peered at me. Our eyes met, but I couldn't see the future at that point," Tauriel scoffed and smiled at her words like she has never smiled before within the maiden's presence and the maiden couldn't help but force a smile as she looked down to her bed sheets.

She listened attentively and more than anything she wanted to feel that warmth Tauriel felt.

"It was never love at first sight, but he was different than any dwarf I've seen or met. He was charming, cocky, handsome, and reckless above all else, but the way he'd smile and tell me stories of his adventures... I," she stopped, looking at the maiden. "I slowly started to fall for him."

"My Lord, Thranduil had him and his kin locked in the dungeon cells and I couldn't help, but visit him. He talked of how a star was a light so remote and far away and I couldn't help but find him honest to a fault and cheeky. I left that night not realizing, not picturing, not imagining that he'd leave me so soon, yet I knew he didn't want to."

"How did he die?" the maiden asked innocently making Tauriel face her slowly, forcing a slight smile.

"He and his kin were on a mission so they escaped the dungeons. Soon enough the orcs came for them. He fought them off, but could not for long as he fell injured, trying to save his kin," Tauriel paused thinking of nothing but that simple act.

"I immediately rushed to him, saving him before anything else, but before long he had left, rushing far away from me. I didn't want him to leave, wounded especially, but once I heard he was poisoned I couldn't think of anything else, but rush to his side in need of nothing more than to save him and to see him once again."

The elf maiden did nothing more but listen in curiosity as her eyes sparkle allowing Tauriel to smile slightly.

"I rushed all the way to Lake Town, fighting to make it in time, but when I got there I found him. My heart sank. And the way he quivered closer to the darkness was frightening. I was terrified of losing him so quickly, but it was that same fear that pushed me on in order to save him."

"At that time I questioned it, but remembering his smile gave me the will to keep on healing him," Tauriel smiled, her warmness returning to her cheeks.

"I watched him. I watched him lay beside me the entire time I was finished healing him. The sound of his breath and the way his hair streaked down his forehead made me glad I came. I will never forget the time he woke to me brushing his hand. He looked to me with such confusion as if he were seeing an angel. I just stood there listening to him. He had spoken of a dream he had once and asked me if the maiden in his dream could have ever loved him," Tauriel looked down to her lap trying to seem as if the sadness was not creeping its way into her heart.

"But I wish it was just a dream."

Tauriel's chin fell heavily, recalling what it was once like. She felt the pain and emotion that once made her smile, but now it was a memory she can't bear to look passed.

"He died a few days later and I was never able to keep my promise," Tauriel said.

"What promise?"

"That i would come back to him."

"You must have loved him," the maiden forced a smile and looked from her crumpled and sweating hands to Tauriel who smiled carelessly as her eyes glistened. She looked to the maiden, placing her palm on hers and nodded slightly.

The maiden heard and knew of love, but she had never experienced it. Perhaps she did once, but that once is no longer in existence, to her at least.

"My Lord, Thranduil must have loved his wife dearly as well," the maiden stated.

"Is that so? What makes you think so, Mellon nin?" Tauriel agitated forward captured by what the maiden had said.

"It's-" her words were struck to a halt witnessing Legolas enter the room without a single knock of notice.

"Tauriel ego, Hir vuin, cened le," Legolas chuntered, walking into the room eyeing the two elf maidens alone.

Tauriel slowly got up and walked to the side eyeing the maiden as she went along. She gave her one last smile and diminished through the doors, leaving Legolas in the same room as the maiden.

Legolas looked to her as she looked to him. He studied her as she laid in bed unable to do more than just that. Legolas smiled slightly, almost impossible to notice and closed the doors slowly making his way to his father immediately.

The maiden sighed watching him leave as well. Even just a mere day or two in the manner of such elves made her question her own decisions and beliefs. Her mind was full of nothing but questions she had no answers to and this burdened her. She knew she'd have to leave this place, a grave pit in her stomach made her think so. She did not know how and exactly when, but she had to leave immediately for she knew what was to come.

Her breath grew dim thinking of the thought of leaving and she questioned herself many times over to why she constantly felt that way, but it did not dissuade her from the path she chose.

By midnight fall she did not get a wink of sleep knowing what had to be done. She scurried to the door opening it slowly noticing it hadn't been locked. The guards stationed on both sides of the door were gone and in no sight of view.

She questioned this, but had no choice but to carry on. She quickly headed back to her bed side, grabbing a small fabric to lace around her cold frozen shoulders as she heads her way out.

The maiden had no clue where to go or turn, and instead followed her instincts down several halls. Her breath steadied as her bare feet grew tiresome.

The elf, unable to exit this place grew weary in doubt that she would never escape. She held onto the fabric laced around her girlish body covering her shoulders and arms warmly as she squeezed it tighter feeling her breath freeze in mid-air.

Suddenly faint footsteps rippled its way throughout the floor and she could hear guards pacing towards her direction. She panicked slightly, not knowing what to do and where to go as her breath soon quickened in fright.

The guards moved in closer forcing the maiden to vacate her place, moving towards a hall that seemed quite familiar in a way. She hurried to the corner seeing a gigantic door leading to a room. Its carvings and design filled the wood with utter beauty and elegance which would have taken months to carve perfectly.

The maiden immediately rushed to the handle looking back to the halls as lanterns lit the dark ended places. She sighed and entered, her mind still locked on thing more than leaving such a place.

She closed the doors, frantically placing her palm steadily on the doors frame closing it remotely slow. She sighed quietly, slowly waiting as the guards footsteps deepen and slowly diminish, passing through that very hall. Her mind went blank when a voice called out to her from behind making her shudder backwards against the door.

Her breath grew heavy as the glitter in her eyes twitched turning back to a pitched black room. "Where are you going?" Thranduil said lingering in the shadows. The maiden could see his face turn to her in a frightening manner and she was struck still in her place.

Her hands tucked, leaning against the door wavered as it helped support her back. She looked to him knowing more than ever that she had to leave, but would Thranduil let her, seeing her in the midst of her escape?


	8. Chapter 7: Thoughtless Facade

Legolas didn't know what to think. He had just left the elf maiden's chamber leaving Tauriel to talk with her alone, but Legolas couldn't understand how she was poisoned, nor why she was. She had just been there for a single day, yet this incident took place.

Legolas frowned at the thought as he made his way to his father with every intention to inform him on what had happened.

Legolas passed hall after hall viewing his subjects work as he did the same. Finally reaching his father's chambers Legolas quickly opened the huge carved doors. "Father," he called out searching the entire room for him, yet he found nothing. He took deep and sturdy steps towards the center pacing his head from left to right.

"Father," he called out once more as the wind's winter cool breeze flitted its way from the balcony and into the room, swaying the white fabric, like lean branches on a tree.

Legolas's eyes steepened, focusing on a certain object that had been placed visibly on the king's bed side. Legolas knew this object had never been there before making him inquisitive as he slowly drew forward. His gaze ever pulsing with anxiety reared in closer as he slowly projects his rough rugged hands onto the object.

He traced the wooden frame with his thumb as he slowly shifted his hand to the back bringing it closer to his face and he knew his father had placed it there on purpose. Perhaps the maiden had changed Thranduil in a mere meeting or perhaps she made him realize something his son couldn't.

Legolas continued to ponder.

In a mere second Legolas transferred the painting to his left hand, placing it back where it was positioned as Legolas looked to the side, sensing his father had been watching him for that mere moment.

Thranduil had just entered the room quietly viewing his son stand before the painting he not long ago acquired. He stood there until his son paced back lowering the painting of himself being carried by what looked like the maiden, but they both knew it wasn't her.

"To what business brings you here, my son," Thranduil said calmly, walking over to his refined and grand table holding fruits of different kinds and flavors as a bowl full of profound glass shards held them upright.

Thranduil strode to the corner of his table grabbing a grape courteously with his thumb and two other fingers. He first examined it warily and finally nudged it hastily into his mouth.

"I came to report to you about the elfish maiden," Legolas said, his body position quite stiff and masculine. He faced his father who didn't show the least bit of interest towards the thought of the maiden making Legolas try another alternative.

"She was poisoned not too long ago, perhaps about three or four hours' time in passing," Legolas's eyes deepened, twitching a sense of curiosity within it.

Thranduil, his mind wondering on what to think swallowed his integrity to the bottom of his stomach as it churned in defiance. His mind did not waver as he lowers his hand holding another grape. He released it calmly, but did not turn to Legolas.

"And you did not think to inform me sooner," Thranduil's tone heightened.

"I did not think you of all people would want to be informed first hand on a maiden whom you regret to bring in," Legolas countered watching Thranduil now pace forward towards his wooden cabinet placed by the wall of one of his utter brilliant and striking balcony arks perched up above all his glass windows, but one which was clearly opened to the chilly winter breeze.

"Yes. You are right, but inform me none the less," Thranduil said looking upon his cabinet as his elegant rugged hands decorated with rings and charms grazed its tinted frame observing neatness.

"Of course, Ada," Legolas chinned down in respect.

"Legolas, now tell me what happened exactly," Thranduil said wisping his hand towards his face viewing his fingers rub in motion, expecting the small specks of dust from the cabinet to wither away from his touch.

"I do not know exactly. I arrived merely after Tauriel had healed her exceptionally."

"Very well." Thranduil now moved towards Legolas. "Send word to Tauriel, I am in need to speak with her," Thranduil looked upon his son Legolas and passed him heading to his bedside where the painting was placed.

Legolas's eyes followed his father as he slowly slammed the painting forward onto the bed side table's forefront indicating the painting did not mean much to him than he thought.

Legolas left without another word making his father turn to him, viewing his sons back leave abruptly. He sighed and questioned himself, placing the picture back upright. He looked back to the path his son took and looked down in darkness as a sharp shard of breath escapes his mouth.

Legolas headed over to Tauriel, his mind unknowingly wavering to his father's actions, but he tried to block it out. He turned around the corner, finally arriving to the maiden's chambers when a sudden shuddering voice caused him to pause. His hand reaching for the handle did not move as he slowly formed them into a fist.

Legolas couldn't help but over hear the voice of Tauriel slowly change tone into one he rarely heard of. She spoke softly as if she were to break slowly into fine pieces, yet she held up with every bit of kindness and strength she could harbor in one's heart full of warmth and comfort.

Now envy and frustration clouded Legolas's mind as he slowly tries to brush it aside knowing he could never achieve something so heart-warming than ones true emotions that could possibly break through an upholding façade Tauriel had. This he knew very well.

When he suddenly heard Tauriel's voice reaching for the heavens at the thought of her promise, he pictured her face lifting to one's sorrowful joy.

Legolas agitated his chin higher in defeat as he looked to the side, furrowing his eyebrows in the process. His hand reached for the handle once more, but paused in second thought. He quickly expunged his mind full of menial thoughts he couldn't help but process as he reached over towards the handle, clasping its body, pushing the very fabric of the material feeling the coolness of the wooden door absorb his strength, and entered the chamber.

At the very sound of him entering, Tauriel and the maiden gazed to Legolas in question. He stood there for a moment trying to lift his chest off of his worries as he paused peering at Tauriel, her eyes now glowing with life as she sat next to the maiden whose hands withered the sheets into unrefined linen folded upon her slanderous legs.

"Tauriel ego. Hir vuin cened le," Legolas quickly ordered lifting his chin up slightly.

Tauriel turned to the maiden and smiled lightly as she made her way passed Legolas and leaving the two, scurrying down the hall, trying to make her way to Thranduil.

Legolas, left alone with the maiden glanced to her. His eyes never left hers and the maiden his. Legolas's mind pulsed with thoughts of his father and the maiden, how she indeed showed such mild reactions and thoughts towards his king, his father. He simply smiled at the thought and left.

"Holo in fennas. Thati itali," Legolas commanded the guards standing on both side of the doors. He tilted his head to them as they swiftly seal the door close behind him and before long he made his way to his father's chambers forcing the doors to open in an instant.

He slightly heard their conversation once he had flitted it open with such force Tauriel and his father came to stare at him in deep silence.

"Yes, Legolas," Thranduil's eyes glistened towards Legolas as his eyebrows calmly narrowed in shape. His body turned a quarter towards his son in acknowledgment as his gown now a refined and rustic golden brown scraped the floor impeccably leaving the impression of such utter elegance.

"I was just ordering Tauriel on some trivial tasks I'm sure you're highly aware of." Thranduil's focus averted back to Tauriel who's conscious was wisped onto Legolas. She quickly peered down to the floor once Legolas's full attention was on her or perhaps it was rather on her sudden reaction once he had entered.

"Now I was just discussing with Tauriel on the subject on the girl's misfortunate attack," Thranduil paced backwards, turning his back to both Tauriel and Legolas. "I want the person responsible for this assassination caught," he abruptly stated turning to Tauriel sharply.

His long and flowing gown now bulked up in place from his sudden shift in motion made Thranduil lightly scrape the sides and fling it back to its elegant proper place. "Am I understood?" Thranduil continued, walking towards his balcony window.

"Double the guards around our borders. Every road, river, entrance and exit must be heavily guarded. No one leaves this kingdom without my consent," Thranduil's tone deepened sharply.

"Yes, my Lord," Tauriel said bowing her head slightly, her hair a fiery brown as it should be curled in a wavy like structure flowing down her shoulders at ease.

"You may leave," Thranduil said without a single sturdy glance at her before she left. She could not look at Legolas by the time she marched off and for some reason this had bothered him.

"What were you deliberately discussing with Tauriel?" Legolas asked moving in closer to his father, his king.

"It is of little importance," Thranduil paused now reaching his table graced with a small tea cup. He grabbed a spoon upheld into a small jar and scooped whatever was inside it. He soon placed it into his cup and stirred profoundly diluting the solvent into the solute.

"I see you still have misleading feelings towards Tauriel," Thranduil said none the less stirring the tea uncontrollably even though it had been clear the substance was diluted completely. "Must you punish yourself for what cannot become yours?" Thranduil furrowed his eyebrows with discontent as if he were speaking of something he did not wish to.

"I would not say misleading. I know my priorities," Legolas paused in front of Thranduil, his stature masculine and confident. He did not avert his gaze remotely feeling this connection both he and his father shared. "But I ask you, do not fill Tauriel's head with mere assumptions I alone cannot remove."

Thranduil grabbed the cup and faced Legolas his mind well aware of what Legolas meant. "So be it," his aura magnified as he shut his eyes sipping the very fragments of tea that sipped through his lips giving an elegant outlook towards Thranduil.

"Tauriel is strong. Do not think one notion I say could possibly waver mind."

Legolas stood there, unable to counter his father's words, yet he knew he was right. Perhaps the thought of Tauriel Legolas has had for the past few days made him see Tauriel in a different light, but she is not one to waver so suddenly. And Legolas knew it well.

Thranduil faced back to the table, landing his tea cup mildly on the contents of table cloths that swooped one after the other on top of the table's structure.

"Dusk is upon us. I have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, father," Legolas said calmly, steadily walking out of the room.

Thranduil, left in his chambers now steadied over to his desk across his bed that laid to the side of the room. He pondered and thought a myriad of things that would not help him with the tasks that bombarded his desk full of pile, yet organized paperwork.

Thranduil could not concentrate as he shook his head, his hand now reaching for his pail forehead. He needed to think straight and perhaps a walk around the grounds would do him some justice, and so a mild stroll he did.

Thranduil dismissed his guards and headed out his chambers. He just needed a light stroll, but even when trying to feel at ease his inner thoughts couldn't help but distract him none the less.

He made his way to his meeting room flitted with nothing but darkness. He knew this calm dark could somehow appease this king's mind of all sorts when suddenly the doors struck open slowly, barely enough to be noticeable.

Thranduil did not quiver as he narrowed his gaze towards the door. It was pitch black and he could not see anything, yet he knew who was there. He sensed her and every breath she drew made his chest weigh a ton heavier.

"Where are you going?" Thranduil asked walking forward at such a slow pace.

The maiden looked to him frantically, her pulse accelerating even more. She stared at him in such darkness, yet her fingers crumpled behind her back feeling the thin fabric of cloth lace around her bod. She swallowed deeply and turned her gaze to the side unable to lock her vision on him knowing how much hatred he would bore to her once he knew of her intentions to escape.

"Nowhere," her voice twitched innumerably.

"You weren't thinking of escaping were you?" Thranduil said continuing to linger in the shadows. Slight anger grew within him at the thought of her escaping, but he refused to display such anger within his tone of speech.

"My Lord I beg you. Please…," she paused her voice drowning in plea. Thranduil noticed her hands shake abruptly out of fear, yet his eyes stiffened at the sound of her voice.

"Please let me go," her voice staggered. "Let me go."


	9. Chapter 8: Dungeon's Call

"Let me go."

The thought of those words turned Thranduil stifling towards the maiden. "You dare order me to release you when at this very moment you plan to escape my very clutches?" Thranduil's voice grew louder at the insult, yet the very request of the maiden was astonishing. Who of all people would act so straight forward into asking Thranduil for a task which seemed insulting at first thought.

This maiden did not move nor escape out the doors, rather she stood trembling at the presence of her king wishing how he could let her go, but the king had no intentions of doing so.

"No, my Lord. I pay you no ill will, but you must release me. Please I implore you, she trembled forward to Thranduil, begging with a hint of tenderness in her voice as it shook to no end.

"They are—" Thranduil gritted his teeth and swiftly rushed to the maiden, cutting her off as he pressed her against the very door she leaned upon. His hand coward to his chin, lifting it up forcefully feeling the vey touch of her cool light and trembling skin anger him even more.

The maiden now forced to peer into the kings eyes full of anger, mischief, pain, and loneliness squinted, not wanting to do so, but she had no choice.

"That's enough," his voice crumbled with anger.

The maiden felt the aura around him grow heavy, yet her fear towards him minified. She did not know why, but as she stared at him, his face, pale, strong, and alluring captured her and all she could do was watch the very glimmer in his eyes as they falter into a fading color.

Thranduil gnawed his teeth, unable to consider the circumstances he is now in. His hands boil thoroughly as his breath soon slowly calmed down. He immediately backed away from the maiden, releasing his hold from her chin.

The maiden's hand still shook, but the moment her king releases his hold on her chin her eyes pulsed nervously looking up at him. Her small gaping lips soften, her eyes wisp with innocence, her cheeks plush a bright pink, and her hair lightly grazes her cheeks.

That very look on her face stunned the king and this infuriated him. More than ever did he want to just leave her, but the pride he held inside could never permit him do such.

"Please," her voice quivered one more time.

All Thranduil could possibly do was look at her until his eyes gleamed with obscurity. The warmth in him never displayed nor did it escape his mind and the maiden looked down knowing that very look on Thranduil's emotionless expression.

"You will not leave this place. I will not permit it," Thranduil commanded.

"No you must!"

"Guards!" Thranduil exclaimed as a couple of guards push the doors open

The maiden quickly ran to the side of the room to no avail. The guards took hold of her wrist, harshly pulling her their way. She shrugged and pushed their armor away from her, but resisting would not have helped and she knew that. She squirmed lightly as Thranduil watched her body frail downwards, still exhausted from the poison.

The maiden breathed in heavily, her face displaying discomfort. Thranduil just peered at her walking step by step the side viewing the maiden helpless as she is.

"You will stay in the dungeon cells until further notice," Thranduil informed, his back facing the maiden. He tilted his head to view her as she nearly slugs down onto the floor powerless.

"No, you mustn't," she hastened her voice as the guards lift her to her feet. "You don't know the danger that—"

"Perhaps you are mistaken. The danger I am well aware of was bringing you here," he turned about and stared into her eyes. His face was a few inches away from hers, feeling the maidens stare blank uncontrollably.

The maiden did not know what to think. All that sprung to her mind were unconceivable thoughts of how impudent her king, her magnificent king was acting. This brought the maiden on the verge of tears, but she held up forcing her hands to lie still and look straight into Thranduil's gaze.

"Take her away," Thranduil commanded using his fingers to motion the guards to leave. Thranduil now deliberately backed off and in doing so watched the maiden slide out the room, her gaze never left his and his her.

"Move!," the guards exclaimed pushing the maiden forward feeling like there was nothing she could do. Her chest convulsed feeling the anxiety of something benevolent approach. More than anything she the maiden did not want to stay and Thranduil had seen it.

The maiden, forced forward into the dungeon cells trembled at the very sight of the room. Pale black darkness filled its surroundings as shards of glass scatter beneath the maiden's feet. The maiden did not want to stay at that very place bringing, rearing in horrible memories of what she once was.

"No!" the maiden shouted when suddenly the guards forced her inside.

Her body swooped forward unable to steady her footing as she fell, her hands bracing from the very impact that left her gasping for air. Her feet soar and her body shaking spurred cold and freezing from the floor chill.

The maiden looked up, her eyes gleaming with innocence as the guards shut her cell door hastily. There was nothing she could have done to possibly escape or do anything less than that.

Her breath simply gushed out whatever sensation she could muster until Thranduil appeared before her. Her eyes now wary with tears glistened upon the sight of Thranduil, yet he himself would not even bother to look at the maiden.

She just looked at him as she laid there until he spoke finally. "You will stay here until you are willing to tell me what your true motives are," he paused looking to the ground uncaringly. "Rot in here if you must, but you shall not leave until you tell me what I need to know."

"No please!" she implored. "You can't." Her muscles, carrying no power or strength pushed themselves to the limit as the maiden forces herself up, dragging her feet along to the cell's bars, restraining her from moving any further.

"And what make you think that I can't?" Thranduil faced her, his eyes narrow and blazing as his voice augmented feverishly.

"They are coming," the maiden voice rang staring into Thranduil's eyes as their faces were a few inches away from each other. "There is no stopping them."

"Who are coming?' Thranduil said, allured by what the maiden has stated.

"The—"

A loud sound suddenly echoed throughout the kingdom as the place's structure vibrated intensely. The maiden was struck as she innocently gazed upwards knowing they were here. The next thing they know horns sounded off as loud as drums as they burst throughout the halls heading in every direction it could possibly enter.

Thranduil looked to her blisteringly as his gaze a blazes with fire. "Seal every gate and prepare for battle!" he commanded the guards as he moved onwards. "I want every elf to regroup. Bring my people t safety," he continued instructing flitting the dungeons profoundly.

"No! Wait, Stop!" the maiden shouted grappling the cells bars feeling her sweat mix with the bars tinted material. "There is no stopping them!"

The maiden's face grew paler by the second as she, alone in the dungeon cells rotted waiting for a sound, a wail, a quiver to escape the halls, knowing that that could be the very outcome to all of this.

Suddenly earthquake like vibrations rattled the whole ground she stood upon making her follow the echoed feeling it brought. She paced deeper into the dark side of the walls where the sound, the vibrating, the feeling of discontent followed as it grew louder.

Finally realizing what it was she rushed to the cell bars quickly as the walls soon caved into a distressing slam. Dust filled the air as the maiden gasped ferociously not knowing what was to come.

She coughed from all the dust seeping into her lungs as she pushes small specks of rubble on top of her. She laid on the floor seeming frail and week as she peered to the gaping opening forced by what she knew to be an Orc.

She looked to at the compacting dust slowly fade until an Orc emerged. His face rattled with amusement came closer, viewing the maiden in her position, her state. The Orc smiled and laughed slightly as he reared into the maiden.

"Nice work, Alya."


	10. Chapter 9: Escapeless Torture

"Alya. Aren't you happy to see me?" The orc stood there peering at the maiden as she looked to him with fear escaping the very fabrics of her pupils. The hands of the maiden, Alya shook as she crumpled her fingers in hate. There was no possible explanation to what she felt, but more than anything fear and hate faltered the very thoughts of her mind.

The orc's expression stung the maiden into shuddering backwards as he moved in closer, his armor corroding the fine metal into equating a light sound that echoed the cell. His face, once intrigued now portrayed anger as a malignant aura bounded its very existence onto him, living on his hate and nothing but it.

Alya's feet stiffened as her hands waver in its stead, almost meeting the verge of collapsing. She held up, restraining herself from retreating and staggering backwards when she knew it would be useless in doing so. She purposely tilted her head to the side, her breath gaping deeper into pauses of obscurity as the orc reared in closer, now bending down before the maiden.

Alya closed her eyes forcefully seeing the orc now duck before her cheek. She could sense it start to whiff her aroma and this punctured her nerves, fidgeting her body backwards. Her eyelids start to give in to the fear, trembling continuously, but as she quivered back the orc swiftly grabbed her hair with his left hand, pressing her from moving even the slightest bit away from it.

The maiden, Alya could feel the orc's sudden repulsive breath hit her cheeks as she quivers in her stance.

"Did you find it?" The orc paused for a brief moment. "Did you find Thranduil's weakness?"

Alya gave him a long justified pause of silence unable to stare him in the eyes. Her teeth gritted as the orc forcefully pulls her hair making her face him. "I asked you a question," his voice hissed, ringing a deadly threat as his teeth, sharp as the eye could see reared in closer to the maiden.

"Did you find Thranduil's weakness?"

The orc's voice grew louder as his breath now centimeters away from Alya's ears, giving her this unbearable feeling. Her skin itched all over as her hairs attached to her skin stood to its very hilt. She looked to the orc undeniably hating his very guts as she shook her head indicating a no, but Alya, the elf maiden knew all too well where Thranduil's weakness lied and it was a secret she'd be willing to take to her grave.

Alya crumpled both her hands into a fist preparing for what was to come. The orc's serious grin immediately altered as he rapidly grabbed the maiden's slim rigid neck upwards, choking the very fabrics of her throat. Alya was hoisted up, brutally unable to defend herself in the least.

Her hands, now grappling the orc's hand, unable to do more than that quivered as her feet slugged over the floor, unable to clearly stand, struggling in the orc's grasps. She groaned slightly as the orc pushes her backwards, adding more force into its clasped hands around Alya's neck. Her feet, dragged as it was, squelched the very top of the caved in floors as her body struggled to tip-toe her way through it.

"I didn't have time to. You gave me a day, and only a day's time to find it. How could I possibly do that," Alya's voice cracked, pausing for brief moments unable to simply continue without hesitation.

The orc's face darkened feeling the need to harm the maiden. Slowly orc's started to appear out of the elves' hallways, unlocking the cell gates.

"That was more than enough time. Or maybe you are already aware of it," the orc rattled. Alya's eyes, in response, glistened feeling the ends of her eyes water. "We'll just have to get it out of you."

"Never. I will never give it to you!" Alya shouted, her voice projecting as loud as she could within the orcs grasps. She looked to the orc with more hate now than she could ever possess within a lifetime. Perhaps because she lived a hundred lifetimes within the likes of him and it was something that would forever scar her.

Her hands shivered endlessly, feeling the texture of the orc's skin harden. Her eyes paced to it with weariness knowing what was about to come was something she would never want to look forward to.

She tightened her hold on its hand as the orc gapped its mouth open, revealing its sharped edged teeth, ready to seep its way into Alya's neck, piercing the very thin layer of skin into crushing her throat within seconds. The orc simply twisted its tongue around his teeth moving in closer as the maiden waited slowly in grievance.

Suddenly the orcs posted next to the dungeon cells fell hastily after a mere seconds notice. The maiden, Alya glimpsed towards the halls leading outside, her eyes narrow and shaken as she still remains restrained within the hands of the orc.

The orcs behind the walls heard the wails of their kin and ushered themselves into the dungeons, heading towards the halls as their feet clamped the cold dark withered floor in an abhorrent way. Their chest grumbled with the excitement to kill as well as hate that manifested the bitter core of their souls, seeping through the very texture of their breath and their hard distained eyes seeking nothing but the sight of elven blood.

This terrified the maiden, but as soon as they flitted through the cell doors, arrows one by one struck them in any vulnerable spot you could possibly think of, striking them dead on the spot.

The orc holding onto Alya's throat looked to its fallen men as the thought of it rekindled his anger. He slowly released his hold on Alya's neck making her glide down to the floor, coughing thoroughly as she gasps for air. Slowly her eyes began to blur as she looked up to the very trail of orcs slaughtered before her. Her fingers, quivering to the floor pulsed with an anticipation.

"Legolas," she whispered, witnessing Legolas appear from the halls very corner that led to the dungeons. Arrow after arrow he shot nearing the maiden, killing orc after orc with his bow.

The maiden finally noticed the orc before her feet take one step forward, its eyes focused on one thing and one thing only.

"Legolas? The king's only son," the orc muttered now taking more footsteps towards him.

Alya, horrified formed her hands into a fist and grappled the ground for support. "Legolas stay away. You must leave. Now!" Alya shouted with all that she could, her voice breaking at some point.

Legolas did not mind her words and instead shrugged her demand like he never heard it. A myriad of thoughts seeped into his mind as he drew his daggers hoisted behind his back. He took swing after swing as a sudden shot of orc blood scorned his face lightly as he pursued his task.

The orc, hearing what the maiden had said only confirmed his suspicions of the prince. Averting his gaze, the orc glimpsed at the maiden, grabbing her by the shoulders as Alya, looking to Legolas gasped bearing whatever she could possibly bear.

"Do not kill the he elf. We take the elf alive," the orc ordered, his face locked on the prince who slowly approached.

Alya struggled forward, unable to break free of the orc's grappling hold on her shoulders. Her hair flowed forward grazing her cheeks, now filthy with dust and dirt as the orc nudges her body closer to him, tightening his hold on her into making her whimper slightly.

Alya couldn't help but peer to Legolas who was now a few meters in distance, slashing and slaying orcs with his daggers fastened to both his hands. The maiden observed Legolas in every way she could within those mere moments, witnessing the graceful edge of his daggers swish from side to side, killing orc after orc with nothing more than three swings of his dagger.

His blades glimmered in the dungeon scene adding light into the fading place. Legolas, now standing before Alya and the orc swung his blade in a swift circle of movements until they rested attentively facing the floor as the orc blood abided to drip down the blades edged tips.

"There is nowhere to escape," Legolas said intimidatingly.

"You are mistaken prince," the orc grinned slightly. "There is always a way," the orc snatched his sword from his side, placing it before Alya's neck, giving Legolas a hint of thought.

The maiden, stricken by the sudden blade fastened below her chin, swallowed her fear down her throat as it wrestled within her stomach, unable to settle quietly. Her breath heated to a whole new level, exerting the rate of her breathing.

Legolas eyed the maiden and the maiden him, taking a moment to consider what he should do when suddenly the orc's blade thrusted the outer most layer of Alya's skin, slightly allowing a mere trickle of blood to flow down the maiden's neck and onto her clavicle.

Legolas could feel his eyes stiffen as they paced down to the floor, finally releasing his hold on the blades as they absurdly clank to the ground making Alya struggle even more only to make the blade against her neck itch closer into slicing her neck.

"No. Legolas. Don't."


	11. Chapter 10: Rescuers Heed

"My Lord, Legolas."

"Yes. What is it?" Legolas turned back attentively, hearing an elven guard call out to him. The guard, panting continuously took a moment to compose himself finally sturdying his posture cordially.

"My Lord. None of the scouts, sent out to perimeter the kingdom have returned," the guard informed briskly, his voice flinching at the thought.

"When were they dispatched?" Legolas questioned his voice more timid, yet it stiffened to a point.

"Midday, milord," the elf answered pretentiously.

Legolas's eyes furrowed distinctively as he peered back to the ground where he stood upon. He took a moment to ponder until it had hit him. Legolas looked up to the guard, silent in his stead, waiting for a possible response, but Legolas's eyes shifted back to his path, dartingly averting his focus to something else.

Legolas, his expression altering to a puzzling look, hastily walked towards the same path he had intently wanted to take and said nothing more than that.

"My Lord, should we send out more soldiers?" the elven guard asked, looking to the back of Legolas. "My Lord?" he questioned once more as he watches Legolas escape his sights, trudging steadily without uttering a single words to the guard leaving him nothing more, but mere confusion.

Legolas did not have time to converse with the guard knowing what might come was something in need of conversing with his king and his king alone.

On his way to his father's chambers he sees a couple of guards heading into the dungeons, accompanied by his father.

"Father, what is going on here?" Legolas questioned as the guards continue on forward, leaving Thranduil with his son.

"Your little captive planned on escaping," Thranduil's voice stiffened at the thought of it. "Where were the guards posted by her door?" Thranduil asked bitterly, his voice staggering for a loop.

"I never ordered them to leave her, instead the opposite," Legolas spoke, unaware of the incident. He shook his head recalling what he intended to speak of with his father, narrowing his gaze onto his father. "Anyway, I have other matters in need of your well-being," Legolas lifted his hand calmly as he stared into his father's' eyes, feeling the connection they have always shared, expressing how important it was.

"Speak, what is it?" Thranduil's positioned straightened.

"I believe the maiden is of great importance to the orcs. They may be coming after her at this very moment," Legolas spoke, his tone strengthening into a more defensive one, bringing his father into further thought. "Our scouts haven't returned since midday."

"Seal the gates. Did I not order the watch to be doubled at our borders as well as every river and road? See to it that it is done," Thranduil paused, his consciousness now wisping to the dungeons as he peered to it himself. "I shall see what I can get out of the girl," Thranduil said facing Legolas, his chin extending as he swiftly turns his head back to the path of the dungeons, heading straight for it, leaving his son to in force the kingdoms safety.

"Holo in ennyn! Tiro I defnin hain na ganed en-Aran!" Legolas commanded, confronting the entrance where multiple guards stood. They quickly faced him and hastily moved, ready to bar the gates close. Legolas, knowing his job was done there, began to stiffly turnabout, heading to the rest of the gates. (Holo in ennyn! Tiro I defnin hain na ganed en-Aran = Close the gate! Keep it sealed by order of the king)

"Hir vuin," the guard called out stepping forward outside the gates. (Hir vuin = My Lord)

"Man le trasta?" Legolas asked frankly, stopping before he could push on any further. His head swayed, tilting his face slightly backwards, waiting to hear something he never thought he'd imagine. (Man le trasta? = What troubles you?)

"Nad no ennas," the elf looked upon the road perceiving something suspicious as dust swept the bottom of the paved path. The guard squinted his eyes viewing something move from afar. (Nad no ennas = Something is out there)

"Man cenich?" Legolas questioned redirecting his attention to the path beyond the gates. He slowly narrowed his vision, creeping his way step by step onto the platform beyond that of the gate. Slowly his vision focused on an object closing near them. (Man cenich = What do you see?)

"It is one of the scouts, milord," the guard informed surprised, taking a few moments to finish that very sentence. His voice hinting the slightest feeling of cautiousness.

"Where are the others?" Legolas's voice deepened as he took one mannered step forward, viewing the trees and brushes peeking out the ends along the horizon. His eyebrows began to furrow apprehensively seeing as one thing felt wrong. His hair attached to the nape of his neck stood on full ends as the scout now few feet away drew closer, his horse galloping as if startled to death.

"My Lord, Legolas, you must—" the scouts words suddenly lost itself as his breathing that was once a hastened pace, trying to grasp all the air it could possibly contain, subside to a breathing so slow the scout would enormously gasp for air as if he could no longer breath.

Legolas's face altered remotely witnessing a sudden arrow pierce the rear part of the scout's body. He quickly darted forward, catching the elf's body who now seemed stricken with surprise. Legolas peered towards the elf gasping within arm's length, his feelings resorting to something wore wild as the guards posted behind Legolas briskly motioned forward ready to guard that very gate alongside Legolas.

Legolas quickly laid the elf scout on the ground when an ambush of orcs suddenly bursts through the trees and shadows. The elven guards quickly resorted to defense, shooting arrows as orcs ran forward one by one. "Take him to the infirmary," Legolas demanded, making two guards swiftly pass the gates opening, reaching and carrying the elven scout to safety.

Legolas knowing the scout was in safe hands drew his bow from the back of his head, grabbing an arrow as well and drawing it quickly. He aimed for the orc that profoundly shot the arrow at the scout, releasing his hold on the arrow's hilt. Directly it flew to the orc, striking it down with one blow to the head.

"Sound the horns! Alert the kingdom!" Legolas shouted, demanding the guards to do so as he held up the gate's defense continuously striking orcs down one after the other. Legolas's movements did not waver nor did he have second thoughts of what to do. The only thing that rested upon his subconscious was that of the maiden and how he needed to get to her first.

Suddenly a blasting vibration as if some sort of an explosion, shook the whole place into a crackling earthquake, slightly knocking Legolas to stumble slowly, but that did not stop him. He continued to walk from one side to the other shooting orcs distracted by the guards, who fought swiftly against them, until there were none left to be shot down.

Legolas glimpsed around the area witnessing less than four elven guard's dead, laying before the gate's entrance, battered and lifeless as the horns then began to alarm the entire kingdom of the attack.

Legolas couldn't help, but stare at them as the realization of sadness for his slain kin made him peer away slowly, his eyes wavering with guilt, but he knew he did not have time to waver.

"My Lord. Orcs are attacking the river gate," Tauriel informed stiffly, rushing towards him.

"Send the men that we can and defend the gate. Inform my father," Legolas commanded pausing. "I will join you soon."

"Where will you go?" Tauriel asked modestly as concern bewildered her expression.

"To the maiden," Legolas informed now leaving the scene as he ran towards the dungeons knowing the maiden would be there.

His footing paced forward, moving with edge after every turn and curve the path led. His hair swung like the breeze it did, flitting backwards passed his shoulders and onto his back. His hand that graciously grasped his bow began to sweat, making him tighten his hold on it as he seeped in closer to the dungeons, continuously waiting to get there.

Hall after hall he passed, witnessing guards run to the destination ports until finally he had reached the dungeons. He scurried down the stairs hearing a raspy voice echo throughout the area making him swiftly reach for his arrow, ready to draw it in an instant.

The closer Legolas got the clearer the voices could be heard making Legolas hesitate for a moment. Once he saw the orcs huddle before the cell dungeons he quickly reared in closer, but as he saw the maiden now flinching on the ground Legolas drew his arrow backwards.

Clearing the path before him he shot one after the other, hitting every orc while he walked calmly and skillfully down the path of stairs. Now seeing as the orcs were of fewer numbers, Legolas withdrew his bow from his hand and hastily placed it behind his back as he reached for both his daggers perched behind his golden locks of hair. He lifted them up as he twirled them skillfully in mid-air, briskly walking to the cell.

His hands, coordinating with his footing and movements dodged the orcs as he sliced one orc's head off, thrusts a blade through the armor of one, and cuts the others neck finally killing all orcs within his path, but one.

"There is nowhere to escape," Legolas said, now entering the vast dungeon where the orc and the maiden stood as Legolas peered to the orc, his eyesight escaping to the maiden held close to the orcs side.

"You are mistaken young prince. There is always a way," the orc hissed, grabbing his sword and flinging it to Alya's neck, slicing a portion of her skin like silk. Legolas peered to Alya who seemed stricken at a loss for words. His eyes gleamed as his throat began to dry realizing he could not win if it meant keeping Alya alive and this had burdened him.

Having no choice Legolas's rugged fingers lost its strength, releasing its very hold on his daggers, now clanking to the ground.

The orc easily smiled at the prince's actions, but Legolas was not intimidated. He waited, not moving an inch closer or farther. He watched the maiden closely unable to predict the very fabrics of fate, but he prepared in wait.

"Throw your bow!" the orc commanded, looking to Legolas who slowly followed instructions seeing the blade itch closer to the maiden's neck.

Legolas motioned slowly, rounding the bow away from his body and head. He looked to the bow unconsciously, finally throwing it as he gazed to the orc still grinning in its stead.

"Your arrows!" the orc stated.

Legolas, now running out of options and time slowly drew his hands backward in hopes of retrieving the arrows when suddenly the orc growled in pain. He quickly dropped his weapon to the floor as his hand retracted from the maiden seeing as it was struck by an arrow. The maiden quivered to the side watching the orc sway backwards as Legolas looks back viewing Tauriel race down the flight of stairs carrying her bow and blade to her sides. She swiftly shot another arrow aiming directly for the orc's neck when the orc suddenly grabs the maiden in time to use her as a shield.

The maiden, Alya, stricken to the act, could not fight the orcs brute strength alone as he lifts her in the arrows direction. She squeals and utters a wail as Tauriel and Legolas watched aimlessly.


	12. Chapter 11: Omitted Intent

"No!" Alya shouted as the orc grabs her remotely by her wrist, wringing her closer to him with just one forceful pull. She utters a gasp hitting the broad firm chest the orc stiffened on purpose. "Leithio nin!" she shouted once more as the orc finally throws her forward in the arrows direction. (Leithio nin = Release me)

Tauriel unaware of what the orc planned to do, stiffened in surprise, her eyes widening as her mouth gapes open in fear, fear that she will be at fault for striking the maiden when suddenly her body urges forward as soon as she witnesses Legolas speed to the side with utter resilience.

He slides unbelievably fast. His legs, without hesitance, swiftly corroded the floors, grabbing his daggers within a mere second as he edgingly spins skillfully. His hair glided smoothly as if time flowed backwards and as soon as his eyes gleamed in focus his daggers sliced the arrow in half before it could strike both Legolas and the maiden.

Within Legolas's mind was something peculiar he could not place his finger on. It was something he had never done without thought. His body moved swiftly on its own and he couldn't help but fear what was to come as he huffed out heavy gasps while the arrows remains flit down clanging the very floor it fell upon.

Legolas quickly peered up viewing the maiden fall to his grasps. He quickly supported her until she hoisted her head, now looking upon him. His hands gently grasped her by her fingers and bicep as he, himself kneeled before her, his eyes vexed towards the orc who began to move abruptly.

Tauriel witnessing Legolas and the maiden turn to the floor, briskly walked in the cell's door. Once her eyes agitated to the right by instinct, she quickly darted forward for the orc who began to escape, his boots vibrating the floor with every prominent step he took.

She then hastened remotely, her mind fixated on nothing, but capturing the orc until Legolas stopped her from doing so.

"Tauriel!" his voice sprang deeply. "U, Dartho," he paused for a brief moment enough for Tauriel to face him properly as he looked to the maiden, her eyes now on him. (U, Dartho = No, Stop)

"Agorel vae. There will always be another time," Legolas paused once more thinking they were not of priority. The maiden was, he thought, finally breaking eye contact. "Ni lutol," Legolas now looked to Tauriel worriedly as her face gravely innocent, paced back to the orc realizing he was gone and there was no way for her to catch up to him so easily. (Agorel vae = You did well & Ni lutol = Until then)

Tauriel sighed uncontrollably and quickly shifted her focus from the orcs trail to the maiden who now seemed stunned in place. She immediately turned to her and took her from Legolas's clutches, gently laying a hand to her shoulder.

Tauriel, now beside Alya was a few inches from her face witnessing Alya look to nothing but the floor. The maiden, Alya watched Legolas as he sternly stood up briefly, taking a few steps towards the collapsed wall ushering a new entrance into the structure.

"It's my fault," Alya whimpered as if she didn't mean to be heard. "I….. I did this," she whispered louder, enough for both Legolas and Tauriel to hear. All she could do was secure herself in her stead, feeling her nerves rile up within her as she began to shake driftly.

Tauriel's eyes pulsed with confusion as they shift from the maiden, trembling within her hold, to Legolas now staring at the maiden. Legolas couldn't help, but stiffen his position even more, hoping what he thought was not true, but as he glimpsed to her, her eyes wisping with guilt while her body convulsed in fear, he knew then what he had to do.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, his tone sounding confused at first. He then took a few steps forward, swaying his arms lightly while his eyes flitted to Tauriel and back to the maiden. "You were part of this?" Legolas now paused, standing in front of the maiden, but all she could see was Legolas's boots wring in closer to her and fear took hold of her conscience, drastically collapsing the very hope she had left within her tightly thin, compacted body.

Legolas raised his chin higher as his eyes never left Alya, knowing whatever her answer would be would only result to one thing, and it was not something the prince wanted to do. The thought of it lightened his expression, but not because he was happy.

At once the maiden's hands crumpled around the floor, slowly forming her fingers into a tight fist. The cold feel of the disdained floor and the deafening silence was so hard for the maiden to bear, but now it mattered not. Slowly her head slugged down so that now she faced nothing but the floor and this signaled what Legolas never wanted to know.

The maiden's face tightened as it blushed a bright red, spreading from her eyes to the back of her ears in frustration. As she looked to the floor she knew whatever sprang from Legolas's head was also in Tauriel's, and she could feel both pairs of eyes glare through her.

The floor showing no reflection of the maiden only vexed her even more seeing only a vast color of black, stain the floor with nothing more than dust and shattered debris.

"My Lord!" an elven guard hurried down the stairs accompanied by a couple more guards.

Legolas turned to him attentively, his body weight shifting to his left foot. His eyes now darting to the guards did not know what to expect, but it gleamed with obscurity until finally he spoke.

"The orcs, my Lord. They've fled."

"What were they after?" Legolas asked looking to the guards face naturally.

"We do not know, my Lord," The guard paused looking down to the maiden and Tauriel, situated by the ground where Legolas stood upon. "The scout we brought to the infirmary did not make it. So to speak we do not know anything."

"Perhaps," Legolas now turns to the maiden who trembled with fear, yet she did not move from her place and instead waited for any further words from Legolas.

"But she does."

"Lock her up. I want guards doubled around her side," Legolas quickly instructed. "She is to be no longer left alone. The orcs want her, but they do not have her."

The guards looked to Legolas and entered the cell, grabbing the maiden off the ground before she had the chance to protest. By the time her feet gained the strength to urge forward, her voice escaped her mouth.

"My Lord, No! I am not the one they seek," the maiden pleaded as her eyes gleamed with softness towards Legolas. "The orcs. They…. I've been there prisoner for far too long. I know them. They—"Alya's voice fell slowly until her eyes met the floor.

"If they don't get what they want, they'll get something of even value," Alya spoke in soliloquy as if no one was in that very cell, but her. Her tone felt as if she, herself could not believe her very own words escaping her very tongue. Her voice dimmed and began to lose itself as she looked up to Legolas.

Legolas felt his eyes widen in assumption, taking this moment into account. "Where is my father?" he asked immediately, turning to the steps leading away from the dungeons making his grip around his blades tighten in worry.

"I do not know, My Lord. Perhaps in the hearing roo—" the guard said faintly unable to finish his last words. Suddenly the maiden bolted forward, escaping the guards' grasps and running through the dungeons and out of it, heading straight into the halls.

Legolas surprised by her attempts ran forward giving no further orders to the guards nor Tauriel, yet they followed in pursuit.

Alya's mind grew weary at the thought of the orc's plan, yet guilt fell over her to why she never thought of it sooner. She braced herself, pushing her feet faster as they pained one step at a time, yet she had no time to stop, look back, or to even think of anything but reaching him in time, but she knew she couldn't stop and little by little her movements prevailed making her dart forward, unable for Legolas or the others to catch up.

Legolas did not have a place for Alya in his heart, yet he felt he needed her there, but how could he? Now he sees her as a threat to him, his father, and his kingdom making him push himself further, but his speed was not of that compared to the maiden, yet giving up was no option.

They all moved swiftly, Alya being at the head of the others, but fear struck her as she doubted her memory to where the hearing room could have been. Never the less she did not waver too much and instead pushed on, finally arriving to it.

The pathways seemed more steep than usual as she peered to Thranduil who spoke with an elven guard by his side. The scene looked daftly normal until her eyes caught sights of the orc who nearly killed her awhile back aiming an arrow directly at Thranduil.

None had noticed, but how could they? His body and face seeped into the darkness, tainting itself within the shadows unseen, unheard, nor sensible.

Quickly the maiden ran, fear striking the very fabrics of her heart leaving it bleak as it faded uncontrollably. Her eyes dwindled, reflecting her every sight as well as her feelings flowing through her very pupils. At some point she stumbled, her legs keeping up no more, but she trembled picking herself up.

Legolas, faster than the rest, reached the halls and seeing the maiden race towards his father, his king, began to draw his arrow aiming behind Alya's rear. He squinted his eyes in defiance and hi hands begin to sweat.

Will he shoot her thinking of something he mistook by chance or not?


	13. Chapter 12: True Intentions

Legolas' eyes pulsed thoroughly with nothing but anticipation as his hands lose its grip, begging him to find a new one. His hands rugged as they always were, softened entirely, making his thoughts seep into reality where he lost full control.

The maiden, Alya's mind reflected her inner emotions as she ran hurriedly, unwilling to stop. She drew closer from one step to the other, fidgeting a paled thump to the floor, which her thinly slim legs forced every step upon, pushing her even further forward.

The guard, noticing her frail entrance turned to her while Thranduil did the opposite. Instead, he reached for his goblet of wine, facing his back towards the maiden.

"Daro!" the guard commanded, but the maiden could not possibly process this within her thoughts. Above all else she must and she believed she will save Thranduil and nothing was going to stop her.

"Daro!" the guard now shouted, his voice echoing with bitter command, witnessing her running towards him with no regard what-so-ever to stop.

She could not stop and refused to by anyone, as she finally zips passed him, forcing him to turn back abruptly and stop the maiden from whatever she planned to do. Her heartbeat intensified, fearing the very thing she planned to do, but could she? At this moment Legolas' breathing hastened, taking in shivering and hoarse breathes one after the other while his fingers tightened on the bow as his hands sweat with utter displeasure. With his vision faltering and his palms pacing frighteningly, his aim disfigured itself doubting himself from ever launching the arrow towards the maiden. Forcing a painful gasp, Legolas lowers his bow as he tilts his head to his right knowing he could not inflict pain upon her and immediately runs after her in pursuit.

Slowly viewing Thranduil from her rear, flickered her heart as her finger tips trembled abruptly. Her breath now staggering for more began to lose itself as her eye sight flung back to the orc who now released the arrow.

Legolas, with no doubt in his skillful abilities sees the arrow and dashes forward at all costs and more than ever did Alya fear the risk of dying, but that very thing she had wished all, but too long ago. Now she knew what to do finally attacking Thranduil who turned to her remotely before they both staggered to the floor. Thranduil's wine glass took a thud to the floor, a shard of light whisking the pure substance the goblet was entirely made of as the wine splashes against the distilled soil, beginning to spread elsewhere.

Suddenly both Thranduil and the maiden glimpsed to the guard, writhing in pain within arm's reach. An arrow had pierced his hide as he then collapsed to the ground.

Legolas, slightly behind the maiden's stead, glimpsed at the guard, his lips draining of blood and without hesitation flings his arrow towards the orcs direction, taking one sweep look at the orc in dead fast anger. Realizing his carelessness, Legolas hated how he could not save his fellow kin from such an attack and how he failed to have realized Alya's intentions and nearly killed her. Upset and fumed as he was, Legolas focused on his arrow piercing the orc at lighting speed to the point it had severed him really bad, but not to the brink of death.

Immediately the orc tumbled down, resting its head a midst of Legolas' feet. Without a seconds notice, the orc bursts up and makes an opportunity to grab the elf maiden, but Legolas was faster in his shape. His nails nearly reached the elf's back when Legolas swiftly trudges towards the orc, snapping the arrow's base from the creature's flesh.

Immediately after doing so, Legolas swoops to the orc's back, his hair dancing along with his body as strand by strand it began to willow cursively to and fro, and immediately plants his daggers on the orc's build. One to his neck and the other to the side of his abdomen. The orc shrieked in pain from what Legolas had done, urging his fingers to retract into a fist before reaching the maiden.

"Make the slightest move and you shall regret it, Orc," Legolas hastened his voice as he huffed a sigh of distraught panic. In an utter second, no one noticed his minds frail composition of that moments time.

Both Thranduil and Alya glimpsed towards Legolas making his swift approach towards the orc allowing Alya to slide away from Thranduil with utter haste, while Thranduil's main focus did not dissuade form the orcs disdained fall.

Alya slowly limped in her fair position to the side, her body reflecting the floors coarse material, pure, yet dark. Slowly, she did not falter. Her eyes softened at the sight of Thranduil before the ground. Helpless he was not, neither frail. His golden like fibril hair swayed esthetically downward as gravity does its job making him seem more beautiful, more radiant.

As regal and dominant as he was, he did not seem astonished, perhaps bewildered at most, but stiff and potent he was. Thranduil's sight did not leave Legolas 'till the maiden arched slightly forward towards his direction, the slightest movement distracting him instantaneously.

Alya's palm slowly ached for Thranduil's, wanting to feel the warmed of his touch and know he was alright. No one, but her knew this. Although clearly her expression could tell otherwise, she pressed on. It stretched downward making its way towards Thranduil in hopes of possibly joining palms, yet the elf maiden knew that would never happen.

In a second notice, Thranduil simply shifted his head away from the maiden, his hair curving and waving to his immediate reaction bringing his strands to a graceful pursuit. The maiden was not offended for she knew an elf like her couldn't possibly grace her king with even the touch of her fingertips.

The elf maiden began to continue to watch Thranduil as he lifted his hand, stretching his fingers in the process, his rings of silver and his gems of pure starlight began to glisten in reflection to his graceful movements. Slowly his hand flicked back and forth shooing the maiden's palm from his, making her retract it without second thought.

Hastily the maiden moved back hoping to give Thranduil his space as he then whisked himself off the floor and immediately pacing towards Legolas' side.

Immediately Tauriel and the guards sprung towards them, emotionless and pale as they halt before the king. Tauriel without thought slung herself close to Alya as she slowly supported her. One hand holding her arm and the other leaning against her back.

Alya slowly gained her strength to stand up, awkwardly and preserved as weakly as she deemed so.


	14. Chapter 13: Dishonest Truth

"Tauriel," Thranduil's voice echoed throughout the darkest and gloomy setting as his chin inches toward his side. He seemed calm, regal and unfazed, but his tone said otherwise. His eyes pressed down to the floor as his golden like strands follow in elegance. "See to it that he lives," Thranduil's voice hissed silently, yet potently shifts his head immediately to the right where his eyes had rested on a thievish orc.

Tauriel looked down at the maiden with wistful eyes not wanting to leave her stead and this was clearly the reason why Thranduil had ordered her withdrawal. This, she had figured out herself. Alya looked at Tauriel and forced a light smile, so as not to have wavered her from following her sovereign.

Thranduil took a step forward, his body swaying to the right so agile and just. And as he did so, his hands slowly clench behind his back. Now, Thranduil was standing high before the orc, his eyes never leaving Thranduil's. The king's chin sharpened as it etched upwards saying finally, "I will not say it a second time, Tauriel. And….." He paused for a rare, yet brief moment. "Bring the guards with you," Thranduil paused huffing a breath of air as his lips gasped open, allowing everyone to feel Thranduil's intensity.

"I have some matters to attend to," Thranduil lowers his head towards the orc. "ALONE."

Tauriel turns to the maiden, looks at her and bows her chin in accord. Slowly she wisps to the side where the guards lifted the unconscious, lifeless body, beginning to drip a Mors crimson liquid. "Let's go," Tauriel ushered forward as the guards swiftly followed after.

Tauriel glanced back once more to see the maiden wince in place. Her head lowered further facing their King. Tauriel squeezed her fingers against her palm and pretend as if she had never glanced back.

Alya's heart beat was the only thing she could possibly hear. She heard her fear, her guilt, but suddenly she felt this urge to no longer hear it. She wanted to be brave for once. She knew her mistake and acknowledged them in her heart, but was this really her mistake? Her conscience, pestered her onwards.

"It's my fault," she bellowed as her expression shifted. Legolas immediately looked up towards Alya, speculated. Alya was shifted to where she would look upon Thranduil's back, where robes of fine satin and silk engulf his broad shoulders, slendering down his torso and feet.

Because of this, she could not peer or take a glimpse at Thranduil's reaction and this bothered her slightly. Her calves begin to shiver simultaneously as her macabre and patched fists crumpled the very gown that was no longer a shade of white.

"And how is that?" Thranduil's voice deepened, allowing him to speak softly, yet somehow soothing. Perhaps even alluring.

Alya tensed subconsciously.

"Perhaps you think it is your fault for luring them here? Is it not?" Thranduil finally turned around to view the maiden. His height showing a great deal more so than Alya's, separating the two of them unknowingly. Frightening as it may seem, all Alya could do was look to the floor unable to even utter a word out of fear.

The entire time Thranduil was merely observing the maidens every word and every move she made. Thranduil's eyes seeped into Alya and she could not stop feeling such immense pressure thrusting against her chest.

"No," Alya's voice stuttered at the quivering silence between them as she let out a painful gasp of air.

"No?" Thranduil's thick brows furrowed.

"That's not the reason," her voice lessened greatly. A long pause leveled throughout the atmosphere. Before Thranduil could speak, the maiden looks up to him, her eyes glittering with doubt. Somehow they begin to stir a feeling within Thranduil that she wasn't just nothing. That perhaps she was yearning for something, something that Thranduil perhaps could give.

"The real reason is…"

A snaring growl suddenly blasts the air surrounding them. The orc, down on his knees blew air through his nostrils and pierced his gaze onto Alya without even so much as a flinch. But before anything could happen, Legolas jabs his elbow onto the orc's scapula driving it painfully face down to the brittling floor.

Alya stricken with fear could no longer move just from his gaze. Her eyes pulsed with dread as they morph to a dark gray, lifeless and unfleeting color.

Legolas jams the blade at the side of the orc's neck further, cutting the very fabric of his skin open. Blood raced down the orc's neck drop by drop, deep blue, nearly black as his voice muffled into snarls.

"Let that be your final warning, orc," Legolas lowered his face down to the orcs as he slowly sways the knife making the orc grumble in pain. "I will not be so merciful next time. Do it again and the last thing you will see is your head deprived from your body."

Legolas does not cease his constant stare on the orc and instead the orc turns his head forward, saliva dribbling down the side of his lips.

Thranduil watched as Legolas looked back up to him slowly and then without fully turning towards the maiden, Thranduil locked eyes at this frail elf, stricken and lifeless as peered upon.

Whatever the orc had done shifted every sensation, every feel, and every remorse in that very room, but most importantly, it shifted the maiden's very conscience.

"What is the reason?" Thranduil coaxed the words out of his mouth, making it lighter, hoping that this would help calm her, but instead his hopes diminished and deprived the maiden that of which she could barely even think of.

She remained quiet and struck in place as if air never left her chest nor caved in to it.

Thranduil took a step forward, slowly extending his hands beyond that of his body. His robe slung against his bicep allowing it to extend further against his hand.

Alya closed her eyes feeling tears seep to the tips of her eye lids. The distance of space between the elves minimize as Thranduil breaks it little by little. Sensing her kings hand move closer towards her direction, grief began to fill every inch of being she thought she possibly was. More than ever did she want to feel Thranduil's cool finger tips coursing the strands of her hair or the sensation of his palm yearning to warm her cheek, but this was not what she wanted. Not like this.

The more she thought of it, the more it angered her.

Before Thranduil's hand could even touch the strands of her light grey hair, the maiden had lifted her fist, striking Thranduil's hand away from her.

"Why?"


End file.
